


More Sex in the Windy City

by VaguelyDownwards



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaguelyDownwards/pseuds/VaguelyDownwards
Summary: The actual last meeting between Kirihiko and Shotaro.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kamen Rider Kinkmeme. Prompt: Shotaro/anyone or solo, "Shotaro has a wind fetish and blows a fan at himself while he gets off."

Shotaro isn't entirely certain how he wound up in such an incredibly compromising position or with such an incriminating partner, but for the moment, be can't complain. Which is to say, he can complain enthusiastically, but both he and Kirihiko know he doesn't want this to end just yet.

He's pretty sure he could get out of the handcuffs if he wanted to. He'd never got his hands on the real thing, and had hoped that none of his enemies would notice his cheap novelty cuffs had a release button on them before the actual police arrived. It would require more focus than he has right now, though, cuffed to his own bed stark naked with Kirihiko's scarf making an effective blindfold.

"Just say the word, Hidari," comes Kirihiko's voice from somewhere above him. "You only have to ask, and I'll give you your driver. You should have no problem getting rid of me then."

He's perfectly right, of course. If he can't get free on his own, he could certainly manage as Double. But that would require inviting Philip into the situation, and he doesn't particularly feel like explaining this to them right this instant.

Kirihiko's fingers are like ice on Shotaro's chest. He leans close to leave a row of soft bites down his torso, and Shotaro realizes that at some point Kirihiko shed his long black coat and immaculate suit because he can feel warm skin against his. Too warm--Kirihiko's body is hot, feverish, and Shotaro tries not to think too hard about the way he had stumbled away from their last fight.

And then Kirihiko blows across the places he's marked with his teeth, and Shotaro isn't thinking of the fight anymore. He's thinking of how he can feel precisely where Kirihiko's lips have touched him, how much he wants to arch into the cool air, how he is harder than he has ever been in his life.

Kirihiko laughs and repeats the process, following each bite with a gentle breeze that brings a delicious chill to Shotaro's damp skin. It's too steady to be his breath; a fan? Some people carried little portable fans in summer, but it's much too cold outside to need one now. Unless, Shotaro thinks. Unless he's the same as you. He did say he loves Fuuto, and this is the Windy City.

Kirihiko's mouth circles lower, trailing kisses over the bony crest of Shotaro's hips and dragging his teeth over his soft thighs, always teasing at his true objective, never quite allowing him any satisfaction. And afterwards, there is always the wind, the chill making Shotaro twist and pull at his cuffs without regard for the bruises he knew were forming. He longs to slip his hands free and sink them into Kirihiko's hair, to make him follow through on the threat and the promise in every bite.

"Please," says Shotaro before the indignity of begging can stop him.

"I'm a man of my word. If you want the driver, you can have it."

"No!" he says quickly. "Not... not the driver. I want..." He can't say it. He can't possibly say it, and every moment he hesitates is another moment without Kirihiko's expert touch, with only the wind on his bare skin.

Kirihiko doesn't answer, lets Shotaro lie there a moment panting and desperate. Then, without warning, his mouth is warm and wet around Shotaro's cock, and Shotaro can't help but moan. And he should have known, he should have seen this coming, but Kirihiko stops just as suddenly as he had started to turn the fan on him instead. The cold air should make him wilt, should bring this little game to an unimpressive halt, but the heightened sensation of the wind against his skin is all Shotaro has ever wanted.

"You Sonozaki bastard," gasps Shotaro, and Kirihiko laughs again.

"I can't be too kind to you, can I? After all, we've been enemies for this long." He pauses to deliver a lingering lick to Shotaro's cock, ensuring he stays wet enough for the fan to have its full effect. "But I can't be too cruel, either, to a man who loves his city. It really does have a good wind blowing through it, doesn't it?"

Shotaro starts to curse him again, but Kirihiko silences him by taking his full length into his mouth with the swift ease of someone who is certain about what he is doing. His hands don't stay still, either, fingertips tracing slippery designs that still cause goosebumps in the wind on Shotaro's stomach. He has just enough presence of mind to realize that it means Kirihiko had arrived more prepared than he had let on. The wind is a constant now, the fan resting somewhere Shotaro can't see through the blindfold, the wind and Kirihiko's slow, thorough attention to his cock. Occasionally he feels just the edge of teeth, as though Kirihiko is reminding him what a delicate position he is in, and he fights the urge to flinch.

One slender finger slides between his cheeks and slips inside, slick with whatever extra preparations Kirihiko has brought with him. It's joined by a second perhaps sooner than Shotaro had expected. He lets out a string of expletives when they curve just right, and Kirihiko interrupts by biting hard on the place where his leg meets his hip. He leaves Shotaro's cock exposed to the wind until he relaxes enough for Kirihiko to slip a third finger inside.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite flexible enough to continue in this direction," says Kirihiko. Shotaro is about to protest when he feels the cuffs around his wrists loosen and fall away, and a cool hand on his shoulder rolling him over. Kirihiko easily manhandles Shotaro into a position he deems suitable, and Shotaro doesn't resist.

Shotaro hadn't been sure exactly what sort of motivation Kirihiko had acted on until he feels Kirihiko's cock resting on the curve of his ass, firm and hot. I guess he's certainly been enjoying himself too. A pause, the wind shifts. Kirihiko sets the fan at the head of the bed so that the wind ruffles Shotaro's hair and breezes over his back, bringing a fresh wave of delightful shivers. One broad hand between Shotaro's shoulders pushes him down, face pressed against the bed, while Kirihiko shifts his hips until he can find entry.

Shotaro hisses, but fights the urge to swear again. He refuses to give Kirihiko the satisfaction of knowing he's beaten, especially not after the pathetic display he's made so far. Kirihiko's first thrusts are slow, careful, and Shotaro's confident he can get through this without embarrassing himself too much. Then Kirihiko sets into him with a ferocity Shotaro didn't think he had left, and he can barely remember to breathe, much less hold back the noises that escape his mouth. The wind across his back is a cool counterpoint to Kirihiko's heat, and if he arches just so, he can feel it on his face, ruffling his hair. He imagines he can see Fuuto spread out before him like he has been spread out on his bed.

Those same slender fingers that had teased him so much close around his cock, and Shotaro is in ecstasy. Every inch of him is on fire with sensation, and he knows he can't last long like this. Kirihiko is ruthless, both in the way he fucks him at a breathless pace and in the way he pumps Shotaro's cock with one hand almost as an afterthought. It's barely any time at all before Shotaro comes gasping, gulping down the wind that caresses his skin.

Moments later, Kirihiko pulls out and finishes himself off with an undignified grunt. The spots of liquid feel like they're burning as they land on Shotaro's back, but in a moment the wind cools them to a different sort of chill. Shotaro collapses into a heap as Kirihiko climbs off of him. He can hear the slip of fabric on skin, Kirihiko hastily dressing himself while Shotaro is too spent to move.

"I think things are about to become even more difficult for you, Hidari," says Kirihiko. "But whatever else the future may bring, know that today I was more alive than I have been since the Sonozakis changed both our lives."

A needlessly cryptic statement. But it is perhaps, Shotaro thinks, the closest Kirihiko can come to thanking him for protecting his city. He feels a familiar shape pressed into his hands--the Double Driver. Not like he has an intent to call Philip now. And then, the blindfold is lifted from his eyes. Adjusting to the light, he sees Kirihiko swiftly tying it back in place, the red sun at his throat setting into the dark collar of his suit. He looks down at Shotaro with his usual calm, confidant smile before he turns to leave.

Shotaro can see him struggle to walk away like it's easy. He isn't surprised to find Kirihiko's photo in the newspaper the next day.


End file.
